


Measured by Moments

by Anzieizna



Category: Original Work
Genre: Don't worry, F/F, Roadtrip, never written a polish character but i'm not going to go too far into the culture so it's fine, they're going to be lesbos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-04-07 10:19:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19083043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anzieizna/pseuds/Anzieizna
Summary: Road trip because I am longing.





	1. A Simple Hello

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by The Lumineers' _Sleep On The Floor_ music video, and my own imagination.
> 
> (More info to come)

The gas station is nearly empty, as expected this early in the morning. Purple streaks across the sky don’t do much to provide light, instead sending deep shadows from trees onto the ground. It’s dusty, the same it was an hour ago, and two hours ago, and a week ago, and a month ago. If this was a movie, a tumbleweed would float across the ground right now, but it’s not a movie, it’s the grisly reality.

So Mariana pulls into the station and cuts the engine. She sits there for a moment, staring, thinking, before forcing her hand to open the door and her legs to step out. It’s cold outside, but she doesn’t bother putting on a jacket because in a few hours the sun will be up, and it’ll get hot again. So she braces the chill and walks on, not blinking an eye at the flashy neon signs on one of the windows. They’re at every gas station, and after a while your eyes stop hurting. You get used to it. You go in, buy what you need, and leave for the next one.

The novelty wore off a while ago. Or maybe there was never novelty to begin with. Either way, Mariana doesn’t care – she just wants to find something to eat and refill the gas before finding a motel to sleep in for the night.

Inside, the air is dusty and heavy. The lights are bright, too bright, and there’s a constant buzzing that you can’t block out. At the counter stands a tired teenager, listening to music through earphones and scrolling through his phone. The bell that’s seemingly supposed to warn him of a customer is broken, instead laying on the ground nearby, so Mariana just walks by and grabs stuff off the shelf. The chips are stale and the coke is lukewarm, but it’s food and the teenager rings it up without question. She checks the date on some newspapers because her phone’s been dead for two days now and she keeps forgetting to charge it.

And with that, she leaves and walks outside. It’s still cold and Mariana shivers but marches onto her car. She looks up for a second and her eyes get caught on a figure in the corner of her gaze.

On top of one of the gas pumps sits a girl, young, slipping on a slushie loudly and bobbing her head to invisible music. She seemingly hears Mariana’s footsteps, because she looks up and beams at the woman.

“I was wondering whose car that was,” she voices, pointing to the El Camino just next to her. “Not one you see every day.”

Mariana hesitates, then says, “it was a gift.”

Maybe the girl senses the dark memory behind the words, or maybe she’s just really into the car, because she shrugs and says, “nice colour. Blue cars were always my favourite.”

Mariana nods, then heads towards the gas pump. The girl jumps down and grabs the nozzle before she can, placing it into the filler neck and sending Mariana a polite smile. The woman, however, just narrows her eyes and leans away. “Wouldn’t think they’d let a worker sit on the pumps.”

“Oh, I’m not a worker,” she says, nodding at Mariana’s raised brows. “Just like to help out wherever I end up.”

“End up?”

Instead of answering, the girl just nods. Mariana puts the things she bought into the car whilst the waits, remembering to charge her phone as she does. By the time she comes out the girl is pulling the nozzle out and into its home, clapping her hands as if congratulating herself for a job well done.

“Alright, looks like you’re good to go.” She steps back, eyeing the car with a strange mist in her eyes before shaking her head lightly and looking to Mariana. “Just be careful, alright? I know how you muscle-car-types like to drive.”

Mariana scoffs lightly. “You’re awfully concerned for someone you’ve known for only ten minutes.”

The girl grins. “Not for you; for your car.”

Her smile grows when Mariana laughs, eyes brightening and a pleasant flush colouring her cheeks.

“Alright,” Mariana promises. “I swear I’ll take care of the Camino, for you.”

The girl looks deep in thought for a moment, before her brows furrow and she lets out an exaggerated gasp. “You haven’t even given it a name?”

Mariana blinks. “It’s a car.”

“It has a _soul_ ,” the girl chides.

“It’s a car.”

“I can’t believe you have a muscle car and you haven’t even named it – pretty sure that’s actually illegal in some states, not gonna lie.”

“It’s a car,” Mariana reminds her.

The girl waves a hand dismissively. “And a teddy-bear is a piece of plastic, but you still name those, huh?”

“Only if you’re a kid,” Mariana says, then draws her eyes up and down the girl’s body. “Explains it, though.” Then she walks to the driver’s side of the door with a hidden smirk.

Just like she predicted, the figure behind her lets out an indignant squeak and walks after her. “What does that mean? You can’t just say that and leave me, that’s not fair!”

“Maybe I want to leave you in suspense,” Mariana jokes, and the girl plays the part of a spoiled child and crosses her arms, huffing loudly.

“You kinda suck.”

Mariana just hums and gets into the car. She closes the door and looks up, and through the window she sees something in the girl’s expression shift before her face goes blank and she jumps back up onto the tank. Mariana pauses, then shakes her head and starts the car up. She makes it as far as the opening to the road before she stops the car. She sighs, stares at the wheel for a moment, then opens the car door.

Across the lot, the girl is already staring at her, eyes bright and hopeful, young and scared, and Mariana curses in her head.

“Got any places to be?”

The girl blinks, then the brightest smile – _smile_ , not a grin, but a pure, joyful _smile_ – crosses her face. She picks up a backpack Mariana hadn’t previously seen and her slushie, racing to the car. She slips in the same time as Mariana, letting out what sounds like a relieved breath.

“Man, this car better have heating, cause I think my fingers about to fall off.”

The comment earns her an amused look. After a second of thought, the woman says, “Mariana.”

Her companion blinks for a second, lost, before letting out an embarrassed _‘Oh!’_. “Elle.”

Mariana nods. “Alright, Elle. Rule number one: you are not naming my car.”

Elle laughs, throwing her head back. “Just drive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _  
>  Research notes:  
>  _  
> • Mariana's name came out of fucking nowhere. Probably from one of my old stories, where I had a girl called Marina. Elle I got from the internet; it was a tie between Elle and Niki, short for Nikita because someone I know in my native country is called that and it's a beautiful name, but I didn't think Mariana and Niki fit as well as Mariana and Elle did.
> 
> • I spent wayyy too much time looking up the names for the gas nozzle, filler neck, and the gas tank. I am a useless human being and I don't know how to live.
> 
> • Use of the El Camino comes from Hyde's car in That 70s show. It's pretty and it was the only muscle car I could think of in that moment.


	2. Chapter 2

They’re ten minutes into the drive when Elle asks, “so where are we?”

Mariana raises a brow but keeps her eyes on the road. “You don’t know where we are?”

Elle shrugs. “My last ride dropped me off at the station.”

Mariana wants to ask, but she doesn’t. Elle’s shoulders are tense and she’s staring out the window, clearly uncomfortable. And Mariana gets that. They’re both running from something, and she wouldn’t want someone to probe into her personal life.

So she just nods and says, “somewhere near Arizona, probably.”

Elle blinks at her. “Probably? You don’t know?”

Mariana bites back a sigh. “My phone’s been dead for two days now so I couldn’t look at Google Maps.”

The girl narrows her eyes. “You’re going on a road trip and you don’t even have a proper map?”

Mariana looks over. “I do? Google Maps?”

Elle waves her hand through the air. “So not the point. You’re on a road trip. You have to have a real-life map!”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” Elle nods. “That’d be like going camping and not roasting marshmallows. There’s no point.”

Mariana laughs. “Tell you what, then. If we ever see one, you can buy it for us, how’s that?”

There’s no response, and after a moment Mariana glances to the other side of the car. Elle is staring at her, small but soft smile stretching across her lips. Her brown eyes are warm and sparking with something, and it takes Mariana a few seconds to recognise it as hope. She then reads back what she said and realises what it implies – the _us,_ the _if we_. Grouping them together with a promise of a future, of more time together. And it takes Mariana a few more seconds to realise she doesn’t mind that, that it even sounds appealing, it sounds like something she wants; and so she quickly shakes her head and looks forward.

She clears her throat. Then, “I’ll see if I can find a diner or something. When was the last time you ate?”

From the corner of her eye, she sees Elle’s cheeks flush. But the girl just shrugs and says, “not too long ago.”

Mariana can’t figure out whether it’s a lie, then she realises it’s none of her business and drives on. 

 

The diner has at least a dozen cracks in each wall, but Mariana learned long ago that broken things are usually the most reliable. There are too-bright neon signs, as always, but the sky is brighter now and they hurt less. It looks fairly empty from outside, but even if it wasn’t Mariana saw the way Elle had perked up at the prospect of food. They would have gone in anyway.

As they pass, Elle traces the spines of a sign proudly declaring the restaurant, _‘Esther’s Diner’_. Her eyes are wide and there’s a hint of a smile on her face, and Mariana is reminded of how much she looks like a child in wonder in the orange light.

Inside its simple floors and simple walls, vibrant red booths and chequered tables, with low-hanging ceiling lamps that Mariana has learned not to bump into. There are only a few customers and they’re all keeping to themselves, so Mariana follows Elle to sit at the counter. The material is sticky and Mariana is tempted to walk out, but she doesn’t know the next time they’ll find somewhere to eat.

They look through the menu then flag down the waiter from the other side of the counter and he hobbles over to them, voice cheery and smile stretched.

“Welcome to Esther’s Diner, what can I get’cha?”

Mariana hands over the menu quickly and orders a black coffee and grilled cheese. Elle, on the other hand, takes a while to order.

She hums and frets over each meal, reading them – and her opinions – outloud. Mariana has sighed heavily no less than three times before she notices the smirk Elle is trying to hide, and glares at the woman. She laughs. “Alright, alright, I’m done annoying you. Vanilla milkshake and a hotdog, please.”

As the waiter walks away, Mariana scrunches her nose. “A milkshake and a hotdog?”

“The milkshake’s for the road,” she says. “I’m always up for something sweet. And besides, who are you to speak – black coffee?”

Mariana shrugs, and before she realises she’s saying, “grew up around a police station. You get used to it after a while.”

She blinks, shocked that she just freely offered information about her life. Elle seems to realise it, too, because she briefly smiles before changing the topic.

“So, where are we headed? Can’t keep riding into the sunset forever.”

“Hmm, does sound quite appealing,” Mariana teases, and her companion grins in turn. “But I dunno. Was just kind of cruising before, but it’s probably best if we have a destination.”

Elle raises a brow. “You know, if you had a map we could have just chosen a landmark to visit or something.”

Mariana opens her mouth to respond but before she can, the waiter drops their food on the table. But instead of leaving like expected, the man looks to Elle and offers a helpful smile. “There’s a castle west of here. Montezuma, more specifically. Had a couple cousins visit and they said it was beautiful. Or, if you want, you can visit the Superstitions in the south. Good hike and has a ghost town, as well as a resort if you’re staying the night.”

Mariana blinks for a moment, then nods. “Uh – thanks.”

Elle, however, beams at the waiter. She leans forward in her seat and praises the waiter, “that sounds great! The castle, definitely. Come on, Mariana.”

Mariana stares at the waiter’s blush before turning to her. “A castle? Some boring piece of decaying history? Fuck that.”

“You’d rather visit some ghosts?”

Mariana nods enthusiastically. “Hell yeah. That’s way better than a musty castle.”

“Musty?! Royalty lived there!”

“Did I stutter?”

Elle waves a finger threateningly and the waiter chuckle. “Uh-oh, I haven’t started a lover’s quarrel, have I?”

“Nah,” Elle says, and the waiter looks relieved. “She’s just butt-hurt I’m right.”

“Oh, am I?”

The man waves a hand before they can continue. “Or you could just flip a coin.”

Mariana shrugs. She only has bills, and she didn’t know if Elle had any money with her. She certainly seemed like a run-away, so she probably had some cash about her, but by the hungry look in her eyes as she stares at her hotdog Mariana assumes she hadn’t eaten in a while. Which means she probably didn’t have the money to buy food. But none of that mattered, because the waiter draws a coin out of his pocket and sits down next to Elle.

“Am I flipping it?” Elle nods and the guy sends her a wink. Mariana looked to her fingers, fiddling them seamlessly, as he continues speaking, only zooming back in when Elle snaps her fingers in front of her face.

“Hmm?”

“You zoned out,” Elle says, frowning. “You alright?”

“Just tired. What were you saying?”

Elle stares for a few minutes before pointing at the coin. “Julian was asking what heads and tails would be.”

Mariana hums in thought – _Julien_ – and shrugs. “Heads west, tails south?”

The waiter flips the coin and it spins in the air, copper glinting in the light of the rising sun, spinning and spinning until it lands on tails.

Mariana mock-cheers, punching the air, whilst Elle scoffs loudly and flipps her hair back. “You so rigged that,” she teases, “you two are working together, aren’t you?”

The waiter shakes his head. “I’d never!” He grins at Elle and she grinned back.

“It’s decided then,” Mariana quickly says. “We’re going west to meet some ghosts.”

“We need to actually figure out _where_ west is, first,” Elle reminds her. “Julien, do you know where we can get a map for the road?”

“We have one here,” the waiter offers pleasantly. “I’m sure the owner won’t mind me giving it to you. There’s no use for it here, anyway – it’s just for aesthetic purposes.”

As he leaves, Elle digs into her meal. She practically inhales it, swallowing chunks whole and not even caring to wipe away any juices trickling onto her chin. Mariana is torn between laughing at the ridiculousness and being concerned at how hungry she is, but then she remembers she’s not supposed to care and eats her own grilled cheese.

“So,” she says after a few moments of silence, “you gonna take that guy’s number?”

Elle startles. “Who? Julien’s?”

Mariana nods. “Yep. You do realise he was hitting on you, right?”

Elle blushes and looks down at her food, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “Glad to know I wasn’t imagining that. Um,” she says when Mariana just waits, “I don’t think so? I mean – we’re on a road-trip. Without a destination. Now’s not really the time for a relationship, so…”

“Hmmm,” Mariana agrees. “You’re not wrong.”

The waiter then comes back, proudly brandishing is new map. They finish their meals quickly and leave, and Mariana pretends she doesn’t like the look on the guy’s face when Elle rejects him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> __  
> Research notes:  
>   
> 
> • Diner design came from me just googling diners and going, "neat."
> 
> • Also, AO3 can fuck off with the red lines under my "misspelled" words. If I want to write hotdog as 'hotdog' and not 'hot dog', _I damn well will_.
> 
> • Finding the 'locations' for their road-trip was horrible considering there's a reason I chose history over geography to do my exams on. I think I have them somewhere around State Route 260 - I'd also like to note I have no idea what it looks like, or is shaped like, or smells like or anything, so it may be totally possible there wouldn't be a diner around. But I also don't care, so deal with it.
> 
> • Also, since I couldn't find one map with both the Superstition Mountains and Montezuma Castle on it, I had to get a random map of Arizona and vaguely guess where it they were. Which was _difficult_ as we've already established I suck at geography, so those 'west/south' lines are purposefully vague just so I didn't offend any Americans.
> 
> • This story is taking massive inspiration from the _Sleep On The Floor_ music video, hence the coin toss. But, also, Mariana is totally right - I mean, come on. Ghost towns? Way better than a castle.
> 
> • I've never been a fan of stories that hand-hold, or in other words ones that say everything deliberately and obviously in case you missed it. I know it's vital for the plot and makes sure everyone's caught up, but it really breaks the immersion for me and just makes me annoyed. So I'm trying to slip a lot of 'this is totally happening but I'm not explicitly saying it' into this, i.e. Mariana's jealously of Julien (and before anyone says, she keeps calling him 'the waiter' on purpose; I'm not an idiot... well, not too much, anyway).


End file.
